A Kiss in the Rain

Frankly, rain is miraculous. Just ask a meteorologist some time, I'm sure they would concur. As would most inhabitants of deserts or drought plagued places the world over. The weather has been vacillating between snow and rain, and any mixture there of for most of the month of February; and the sheets of dancing drops drenching the land entrance me. And I wonder how rain became so equated with dreariness and the darker side of the human psyche.

Can there not be a joyous rain? Cinema and literature have been remiss in this. The best setting rain can hope to frequent is perchance romantic. Kissing in the rain has become a beacon of romance, Hollywood has been exploiting rain for years to this end. I must admit that while I once found rain dismal in every other respect, I also found it extremely fitting and be-spelling when actors lips were meeting in it. A la "Breakfast at Tiffany's" cue Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard. Romance defined it seems. 

What else could we do in the rain? Rain must have some sort of amplifying quality that makes the action happening in it . . . more somehow. I believe we're selling rain short if we stop at kissing in it. Sure we've covered crying, walking pensively or broodily, and on occasion fighting in it. But these all align with the negative, dreary role rain has played. Except with it's moonlighting for romance, every now and then. And of course we can't forget it's big debut "Singing in the Rain", but that seemed a shortly lived respite. 

Dance in the rain! This is the answer. You've heard of Rain Dancers haven't you? I hardly doubt that they stopped dancing once the rain came. And while I've never danced rain into falling, I have joined the drops after the fact. It is joyous, dancing in the rain. Particularly on warm summer days, if you're thinking about taking it up. No shoes, no steps, just flinging your body around amid thousands of falling water droplets. If that doesn't feel miraculous, I don't know what does, except perhaps a kiss in the rain.